


lessons in throwing punches and exercising self-restraint

by FreakCityPrincess



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Bottom Raizel, Crack Treated Seriously, Frankenrai is the main pairing, Humour, I wrote this out of spite, KPop AU, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Modern AU, Nonstop Nut November, Omegaverse, Top Frankenstein, Trio Shehanigans, With a healthy dose of First/Third and Karajak, ever read omegaverse so bad it compels you to write your own?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakCityPrincess/pseuds/FreakCityPrincess
Summary: Ragar Kertia, an Omega, goes into heat at the wrong place and time (as per the formula of all Omegaverse stories), and finds himself caught up in the dramatic, convoluted love triangle (quadrangle?) that is the private life of Cadis Etrama di Raizel, his second favourite popstar.Or, the K-Pop Omegaverse Spite Fic featuring a bunch of different ships.
Relationships: First Elder/Third Elder (Noblesse), Frankenstein/Cadis Etrama di Raizel, Frankenstein/Ragar Kertia/Cadis Etrama Di Raizel, Karias Blerster/Rajak Kertia, M-21 & Takeo & Tao (Noblesse)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags for an explanation of why this exists.  
> Also, I thought to myself, 'What is the most ridiculous profession Rai can have?', but it was too late when it occurred to me that going down that path makes the premise of this fic too similar to Love Is An Illusion. My bad...

Ragar Kertia was a quiet man. He was good at what he did, and so, despite being an Omega, he had a respectable job, and recognition in his profession. He was commissioned as the photographer at high-profile events, paid a decent chunk of money to snap pictures of elite Alphas and their arm-candy (usually Omegas such as himself) in their natural habitat (banquet halls or cruise ships overflowing with wealth and too much food and wine for the crowd) and invited for drinks with his coworkers at the agency.

But an Omega did not make it to such a cushy place in life through talent alone. What Ragar had that most people like him did not, was the sheer dumb luck of an irregular heat cycle. He was a recessive Omega who had never experienced a heat despite his age, and when it got to that point, it was pretty much assumed that you would never have one. Recessive Omegas were rare and treated almost like Betas, who never had to worry about heat cycles or not finding jobs.

This evening he was the only photographer at a banquet honoring Cadis Etrama di Raizel, the unassuming, pretty popstar hailing from Lukedonia who’d lately been all over the celebrity news as a rising star. Raizel, a Beta, had an adoring fanbase and plenty of rich Alphas for investors. He was so in-demand that said Alphas greeted him with expensive receptions such as this, and he had the luxury of turning down a brand deal he didn’t feel like doing…imagine that. Ragar was almost envious. Would there ever be a point in his career when he could afford to _turn down_ a job? And Cadis Etrama di Raizel was still so new to his field, too.

He tugged at his high collar, feeling a little hot underneath all the layers. The venue was rather crowded, after all; it was no surprise that he couldn’t feel the air conditioning under his mask. Feeling frustrated with standing in one place, he decided to take yet another round of pictures. The event was approaching its end, but he might be lucky enough to get a few decent shots. Ragar started to make his way through the hall, skirting the edges of the crowd.

Most of the Alphas in present company were ones whose names he knew, thanks to their prestige and influence. Roctis Kravei, a Senator who was shit at his job but somehow always elected to office, whose prestigious family had a history in child enslavement…? Alphas really could get away with anything. Roctis Kravei had brought along an Omega who wore a permanently terrified expression; Ragar would have to investigate that. He also spotted Rozaria and Ludis, two Betas who worked for a celebrity magazine that bought his pictures. They looked drunk. Ludis was asleep on his feet and Rozaria was trying to keep them both standing as they chatted with a man known only as Tao, Raizel’s publicist and funds manager. He was a good publicist and this was widely known, but Ragar had heard horror stories about how he managed funds.

Something caught his eye and Ragar swung around to capture the moment, but his hands trembled when he took the shot. A little concerned, Ragar studied the shaky image on his camera screen. His fingers were jittery. In fact, his entire body was trembling a little.

Had he had too much to drink? He’d accepted one more glass of alcohol than he usually allowed himself on the job, but it shouldn’t be able to affect him to this extent. And why did it feel so hot? Cold sweat clung to his neck and he felt unsteady on his feet.

Ragar made his way back to a place where the crowd was thin. Why was no one complaining about the heat? Was it just him who felt it? It was starting to become unbearable, making his body tingle, sending short shivers down his spine. He felt short of breath. His heart was beating too fast against his ribs.

_It almost feels like…_

His eyes widened in horror.

“Franken.”

Frankenstein excused himself from the frankly uninteresting conversation he’d been having with Maduke, a regional Lord who was too full of himself, to attend to his Master’s needs. Was Raizel stuck in a conversation he couldn’t keep up with? Two years in this industry had done very little to improve his social skills.

However, that wasn’t the case this time. Raizel looked up at him with a light flush dusting his cheeks, saying in a quiet voice, “It’s early.”

Frankenstein was quick to shield his Master’s body with his own, lest stray pheromones cause them problems. Out loud he decorously said, “Very well, Master. We should get going.”

They got past their hosts and the event’s security without a problem, making the excuse that Raizel had work the following morning when it was insisted they stay behind for the nth round of drinks this evening. Frankenstein, to his chagrin, had parked the car too far away for comfort, but he lent Raizel his heavy coat as they made their way down to the basement level. He watched guiltily from the corner of his eye as Raizel shivered, wrapping himself tighter in the coat that would dampen the scent of his pheromones. He didn’t need to worry about attracting any unwanted attention from Alphas who couldn’t control their base instincts because Frankenstein would deck anyone who got too close. No, the problem was that Raizel, to the public, was a Beta, and Betas could cruise through any career of their choice without facing expulsion or prejudice. If word got out that he was really an Omega, they could kiss goodbye to all the opportunities afforded and parties thrown for them.

And as much as Frankenstein enjoyed punching other Alphas in the face, his primary duty was to ensure that no one found out this truth. In the case of an early heat, he only had to get Raizel out of the public eye, punch any curious Alphas in the face, and help his Master deal with his fairly intense cycle.

He detected movement in the edge of his vision. Frankenstein halted in his tracks, making Raizel freeze, tracking the source of movement.

“Shit.”

“Frankenstein?”

Frankenstein fished the car keys out of his pocket. “Will you be able to get to the car on your own, Master? It’s only a few lots away from here. I think this is something that must be dealt with at once.”

Raizel nodded, taking the keys from him. Frankenstein spared a moment to watch his Master head for the car, before telling himself he’d be fine and making in the direction of his quarry. If he wasn’t mistaken, he’d just spotted the event photographer. Not good news. If the man had seen or heard too much, Frankenstein would have to pay for his silence, or beat the shit out of him if he didn’t cooperate. Either way, that camera with the evidence was going to be crushed to bits.

“Show yourself,” he growled, approaching the pillar behind which the photographer was leaning. “I know you’re there; there’s no point hiding.”

Frankenstein was prepared for the man to break off in a run, as they always did when he caught someone stalking his Master, but this lunatic didn’t bother running. Did he really think he could bargain his way out of this?

“You must have balls of steel,” muttered Frankenstein, grabbing the photographer by his lapels. “What, do you think you’re allowed to take pictures without Master’s consent?”

“Ah…”

Frankenstein froze.

The photographer…was a familiar face in the industry. Ragar Kertia. Usually morally upstanding enough not to play paparazzi. But more than that-

“Help me,” Ragar said in a weak voice. Breathless. His face was flushed scarlet, his skin glistened with sweat, and he _reeked_ of pheromones. It was almost enough to make his brain sting.

“You…what the hell are you doing? Didn’t you take supressants?”

Ragar didn’t answer. He was too far gone for that. Frankenstein slapped his hand away when he desperately reached for him.

“I’m not going to _help you_. I can call a doctor at most.”

The man groaned, wrapping his hands around Frankenstein’s arm that still pinned him to the wall. He looked desperate, half-crazed. What the hell? Someone his age…

“This is…don’t tell me this is your first time?”

Ragar managed a nod. He clawed at Franken again, but was again neatly dodged.

If this guy hadn’t experienced a single heat in his life before this point, it was entirely possible he’d been living as a Beta or had got his job because they expected he wouldn’t have any heats. Frankenstein knew all too well what repercussions awaited those who were discovered in hiding. Calling a doctor would do this man no good.

“Well, fuck. The hell am I supposed to do with you…” Frankenstein gazed over in the direction of the car. His Master had to be waiting for him and in a pretty bad state himself. He had no time to worry about a stranger. On the other hand, when Raizel asked him about it later, he wouldn’t be able to lie, and his Master wouldn’t like that they’d turned a blind eye on someone in need of assistance.

“Come on. And if you breathe a word about this to anyone, you’re dead, understood?”

Ragar nodded quickly, stumbling after him as he marched toward the car. Whatever happened to this guy, he had to keep an eye on Raizel. When they reached the car, Frankenstein yanked open the back door and all but kicked the photographer inside.

“My apologies, Master. Can you hold on until we drop this guy off at a brothel?”

Raizel blinked, confused by this turn of events. Frankenstein climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. They were out of the building and speeding along the main road by the time Ragar spoke again.

“I don’t…want to go…”

Franken snorted. “Really? You were begging me, a complete stranger, to help deal with your heat just minutes ago. What difference does it make?”

Ragar hung his head, panting heavily. The scent of his pheromones was suffocating in the cramped space, especially to Franken, who, while preferring to only have a taste for Raizel’s scent, _was_ an Alpha at the end of the day.

He was trying to concentrate on driving when there were _two_ Omegas in heat in the car with him and a not insignificant amount of alcohol in his blood. He was starting to fail miserably.

For safety’s sake for himself and his passengers, Frankenstein abandoned the original plan and pulled into the nearest empty alleyway he could find. He stopped the car after a thorough swipe of the area; it was half past midnight and the light in every window was off. It was also much too dark to see anything beyond the scope of the headlights. Perfect.

He turned to Raizel. “Master, we can-”

Raizel shook his head. “Help him first.”

Frankenstein stilled. Put somebody else before Raizel? He was being asked to switch his priorities? He looked over his shoulder at Ragar, who looked like he’d die if didn’t get any relief now. While that wasn’t physically _possible_ , he was really in a far worse condition than Rai. The sooner he was dealt with, the sooner Frankenstein could attend to his Master’s needs.

“Get out of the car,” he ordered. Ragar got the door open on his third try. Frankenstein made it around the car just in time to catch him before he landed flat on his face.

“I don’t know why this hasn’t occurred to you yet, but the fastest way to deal with a heat on your own is to jerk yourself off.” He pushed Ragar back against the wall of a building- a run-down place with moss on its walls, that much he could tell in the dark- and held him upright by pinning his shoulders. “Hurry up and get to it. I don’t have all night.”

Ragar fumbled with his belt. His hands were jittery and clumsy, like an adolescent experiencing a heat for the first time- Frankenstein would have pitied him, but with the situation what is was, this only served to piss him off. Cursing, Frankenstein slapped the photographer’s hands out of the way and tore open the belt himself. Not stopping there, he took out his hard member and grabbed his hand, forcing him to wrap it around himself. Ragar clumsily fisted his cock, with no finesse whatsoever, panting and whimpering feverishly. Frankenstein stepped back, warily eyeing him. He had the motor coordination of a drunk at the moment, but given how desperate he was, it would probably work. He’d done his part. Now for Master-

Ragar groaned in frustration, drawing his attention once more. He’d come but he was still hard. Was he an idiot? That was _normal_ for someone in heat.

“Just do what you did before,” Frankenstein gritted out. “I’m not going to help.”

Ragar looked at him with what could only be described as puppy eyes. Was he serious right now?!

“Argh, fuck, just one time, alright?” Frankenstein wrapped his hand around Ragar’s cock and, none too gently, pumped him once, twice. He moaned between breathless panting, holding on tight to Franken’s shoulders, shivering as he was worked to a peak again. Frankenstein pulled away as soon as he came all over his hand and the front of his own shirt.

Frankenstein wiped his hand off on the wall. Ragar was still flushed and breathless, but he looked slightly better than before. Good.

“Take care of yourself until I call you. After we’re done here, we’ll discuss how this stays between us.”

Ragar nodded. Now that he had some capacity to think again, he could only assume Frankenstein was talking about the fact that Cadis Etrama di Raizel was really an Omega. He had no intention of spreading this information, no more than he wanted it found out that he’d experienced a heat. They both had everything to lose if word of this night got out.

An Omega really couldn’t get by in this world without luck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaoi sound effects. A surprise reference. The thing all humans are born with called shame? Abandoned entirely to write Omegaverse porn.

Frankenstein drove them directly to the hotel they were staying at, with Ragar in tow, and let the photographer have his room. It was only then that he got the opportunity to truly satisfy his Master’s needs.

Raizel was on him the moment the room door closed behind them. He clumsily crushed his lips to Frankenstein’s, fingers curled in the lapels of his shirt, pressing himself close enough that the Alpha’s responsive pheromones threatened to overwhelm his senses. Franken slid a hand underneath the small of his back, bringing their hips close together, making Raizel whimper sweetly when he felt how hard he was for him.

But there would be no time for foreplay; his Master had been forced to hold out for too long, his condition worsening enough that getting past the hotel lobby undetected had proven extremely difficult. Frankenstein spared him the wait and tore open the collar of his shirt, attacking his neck with kisses and his teeth while he undid the buttons of his shirt, followed by his belt, his pants. He dropped a hand down to the curve of his ass, wasting no time to slip a finger inside.

Raizel shuddered, pressing himself close to Franken’s chest. Frankenstein switched to two fingers because Raizel was so _wet,_ the slide was easy and the noises were downright obscene. He whimpered and made the sweetest sounds as Frankenstein fucked him with his fingers, and it only took the slightest brush against his sweet spot for Rai to tense up with his whole body and cry out as he came.

Frankenstein immediately claimed his mouth in a kiss, taking his member in hand while he was still sensitive from his orgasm. He knew how his Master’s heat cycles went, knew they were relentless and that Rai wouldn’t be satisfied until he was too exhausted to get out of bed. And after having breakfast in bed he’d want to go again, usually until the afternoon. On one memorable occasion they hadn’t left the bedroom for four days.

Rai ground against his palm, moaning prettily against his lips. He knew what he wanted from Frankenstein and knew how to get it. Frankenstein picked up the speed of his strokes until Raizel climaxed a second time, sweeping him into his arms before he could come down from the high. He laid Raizel’s lithe form on the bed with more care than was probably appreciated in the circumstances, and spared a moment to take in the sight of him.

“Franken?” Raizel asked breathlessly.

His pale skin was flushed pink, and fresh bruises dotted his neck where Frankenstein had kissed and nipped. His soft black hair was disheveled, splayed across the pillow, his lips beautifully kiss-bitten and red, white shirt torn open, the rest of his body bare and as rosy as his face. The mess on his stomach and coating his thighs more than completed the image.

“Franken.”

Frankenstein snapped out of it. “Forgive me, Master. What can I do for you?” 

Rai shamelessly spread his legs wide open.

Frankenstein nearly choked. He _should_ be used to this by now, but Rai was so forward during his cycles it—it _did things_ to him. How was he to hold back at all when his Master did not?

Frankenstein pushed two fingers against Raizel’s lips. “Suck,” he ordered. “Give me something to stretch you with.”

Raizel made a needy sound around his fingers, sucking on them sloppily. He gripped Franken’s wrist before he could pull away, however, and, meeting a pair of blue eyes that widened in alarm, he took those fingers all the way down his throat until he nearly gagged.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Franken breathed, amusement lacing his voice as he gently withdrew his fingers. Rai flinched and gripped the sheets at his side when those very fingers were shoved inside of him. “It’s not fair at all how easily you can get me worked up, when I’m not even in heat, huh?”

“Nngh…ah…”

“Hm? Didn’t I get it yet? Hold on.”

Rai trembled, unable to formulate real words. “Mm, ah, hah…”

“Found it.”

“ _Ah!_ ”

It only took a few jabs against his sweet spot for every muscle in Rai’s body to go tense before he was coming for the third time, so forcefully some of it painted Frankenstein’s face. He swiped his thumb across the mess while Raizel watched, panting heavily, and licked his fingers clean.

“That’s dirty,” Raizel protested weakly. “Don’t…”

Frankenstein pressed a firm kiss to his knuckles. “Not at all, Master. You taste so sweet I wouldn’t miss it for anything. May I?”

Raizel swallowed, nodding tightly. Frankenstein made his way down his body, dragging his tongue along heated skin and through the mess on his stomach, cleaning him up. He did so without hesitation, making Raizel blush.

“On your hands and knees,” Frankenstein instructed, close to his ear. “What’s your safeword?”

Raizel cleared his throat quietly. “Big Ed.”

Frankenstein did everything in his power not to laugh. Raizel hardly had any limits when he went into heat, and only had a safeword at Franken’s own insistence. His Master had chosen the worst possible safeword in a rare act of pettiness. It was adorable.

Raizel flipped over, getting on his hands and knees and looking over his shoulder at Frankenstein, anticipating. He was only calm for the moment; soon his cycle would return in full force and Frankenstein had to be inside him when that happened.

Raizel was already naturally slick, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Frankenstein made sure the condom was well lubed-up before pushing into Raizel, groaning as he entered his Master’s perfectly tight heat. Raizel clenched around him and had his resolve been any weaker, he would have come on the spot with how good it felt and how long he had waited. Raizel’s pheromones were so potent to him it was a miracle he’d got this far.

His Master pushed back against him needily, whimpering, and he gave in, driving into Raizel as hard and fast as he wanted. Raizel’s gasps and soft cries filled the room as he slammed into him, over and over again, but as soon as he sensed Raizel was approaching another orgasm he reached under him and fisted his cock.

Raizel gasped. “Franken—”

Frankenstein kissed the nape of his neck. “Not yet, Master.”

Rai’s grip on the sheets turned white as Frankenstein continued to pound into him, steadily leaking precum but unable to tip over the edge. He was panting, breath leaving him in airy gasps and embarrassing little hiccups, his body too responsive and desperate despite the number of times he’d come already. Frankenstein kept him on the edge. It was a little cruel, but he needed to keep up with Raizel if he had any hope of fulfilling the Omega’s needs. It wouldn’t do if he exhausted himself too quickly, and this was an effective way to conserve his energy for when Rai’s heat reached its peak.

He was both looking forward to and dreading it.

Raizel collapsed onto his back on the bed, spent. His pale skin was littered with purple bruises and love-bites, his nipples pert and flushed, a heavy blush still lingering on his cheeks. Laid bare except for Frankenstein’s marks on him, looked utterly _wrecked_.

Feeling understandably exhausted himself, Frankenstein allowed himself the luxury of admiring his handiwork. A part of him gawked at the idea of allowing his Master to remain in such a state, but his baser instincts, the part of his brain that made him think like any other possessive Alpha, wanted the sight imprinted in his memory. How long had it been? Five hours, six? There were not a great many Alphas who’d be able to satisfy Raizel when he went into heat. They wouldn’t ever have the satisfaction of seeing his Master like this, either.

_Least of all you, Urokai. Stop stalking Master and go fuck yourself._

Frankenstein was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a weak tugging at his hand. Raizel looked up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“…inside.”

“Master?”

Raizel tugged harder, nearly pulling him on top. “Come inside me.”

Frankenstein’s brain, even the baser Alpha part of it, stopped working for a second. “E-Excuse me?”

Raizel groaned, dropping back onto the mattress and opening his legs, giving Frankenstein an unhindered view of his raw, wet entrance, loose from taking his cock.

Frankenstein stuttered. “Ah, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Master.”

Raizel was having none of it. He raised his hips, bringing Franken’s hand down to where he was slick and ready for him.

“Fill me.”

It took every bit of his self-restraint and remaining common sense not to give in at once and do as his Master ordered. “It’s risky without protection, Mas—”

“I know,” Raizel said stubbornly, not letting up. “I want you to breed me.”

His every mental process grinded to a screeching halt.

“Breed…you…” Frankenstein repeated dumbly.

“Make me pregnant,” Raizel reiterated, slowly and patiently, like Frankenstein was just not getting it.

It took half an eternity for Frankenstein’s usual level of intelligence to return to about five-percent at which point he understood what was going on. He had _heard_ that Omegas could get particularly out of it during their cycles and demand their Alphas impregnate them, but he’d never thought _Raizel_ would go there. It was really just the hormones. Asking to be bred now didn’t mean he actually consciously _wanted_ it.

Still, the idea of Master—with _his—_

_No, don’t you dare. Don’t even think about it._

“Frankenstein,” said Raizel impatiently.

“Ah—right away, Master.” Wait, he couldn’t do that. Unless…

“Have you…been taking your birth control?”

Rai nodded and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him down for a messy kiss.

“Knot me, Franken.”

Frankenstein groaned. How was he still sane? It was singularly difficult for him to turn Raizel down, and he _had_ done this once before but he’d been unable to sleep for weeks, haunted by the possibility that he’d made Raizel pregnant. And sworn never to take that risk again.

But he made sure Raizel periodically took his _birth control,_ so—

Frankenstein was saved from having to make a call that he would either way regret the following day by a series of loud, uncoordinated knocks against their room door.

“What is it?” he snapped. He’d asked the hotel staff not to disturb them, and in this ungodly hour of the day there was really only one person it could be.

The knocking continued with no rhythm at all until, apologizing to Raizel, Frankenstein got off the bed and headed for the door. He yanked it open irritably and was immediately met with an armful of Ragar Kertia.

“For fuck’s sake, what do you want _this time?_ ”

Ragar looked pleadingly up at him, his red eyes glazed over.

“I want kids.”

Frankenstein stepped aside and let the photographer fall face-first into the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

“Ah!”

Frankenstein wiped the water from his brow, brushing his hair aside. “Quit whining. The cold is for your own benefit.”

Ragar shivered, sinking a little into the tub. His long hair was drenched and stuck to his scalp and his face, his skin looking a little blue from the ice. He appreciated the help, but Frankenstein didn’t have to dump a whole bucket of ice water on his head all in one go…

The Alpha in question folded his sleeves even further up, getting off his perch by the tub to refill his bucket of cold misery. The bathroom door was open, and Ragar could see Raizel sitting cross-legged on the bed, fortified by a wall of pillows. For a while he’d been absently petting his stomach and looking at Frankenstein, but he appeared more coherent now.

Frankenstein arrived with the refilled bucket, ready to dump the whole thing on him again, when Raizel’s quiet voice drifted over.

“Frankenstein. Enough.”

Ragar visibly relaxed as the bucket was put away.

Raizel attempted to get up but was thwarted by the fortress of pillows. He dropped back down onto the bed, looking mildly frustrated. Then he started to make his way out of the puffy white bathrobe his Alpha had draped him in earlier.

Frankenstein snapped to attention. “Do you want to go again, Master? If you’ll give me a minute I can deal with this guy—”

“Bring him here.”

Frankenstein froze. So did Ragar. Well, he was _freezing_ to begin with, but why would he be summoned over there?

“M-Master, surely you don’t mean to…”

Raizel treated him to a _look,_ and almost as if physically silenced, the Alpha shut his mouth closed. With clear reluctance, he fetched a bathrobe identical to Raizel’s and gestured for Ragar to stand up.

Still disoriented and wobbly in the knees, Ragar accepted the robe and Frankenstein’s support in climbing out of the tub. The Alpha dried him down none too gently with a soft towel before leading him, even more reluctantly, to where Raizel had finally broken out of his luxurious pillow-prison.

“How are you feeling?” the idol inquired gently. Being generally quiet and kind _was_ in line with his public image, but Ragar had never expected to be on the receiving end of such genuine concern, especially coming from someone in the industry.

“I am better now, Sir.” Cold, really hungry and still craving to be bred although conscious enough to know he didn’t _really_ want to be bred. He still felt like a dam waiting to burst, though; his heat had abated, but it was definitely not over.

“You must be disoriented. I am sorry your first heat had to take place at such an inconvenient time.” He looked towards Frankenstein. “Which part of his cycle is he in?”

Frankenstein sighed. “The receding phase, but there’s probably another peak approaching. The good news is that his risk of getting bred has dropped exponentially, but seeing how he is a recessive omega, it’s hard to say if that was a risk in the first place. The first cycle is often risk-free for recessives. Not that I—recommend fucking him, he’s safe enough now he can just jerk himself off and be alright, so—”

“Frankenstein.” Raizel looked displeased. The Alpha stopped talking, sitting back at the foot of the bed.

“No, he is right,” Ragar said hastily. “I have overstayed my welcome. I should deal with the rest on my own.”

“You can stay,” Raizel said gently, and there was something so reassuring and soothing about his voice that the protest died down in his throat. “I don’t mind. This is your first heat, and I can understand how challenging it must be in the circumstances.” He looked over at his Alpha, who appeared less than pleased with the situation, and was now no longer listening to their conversation but poking holes in the hotel stationery. A rather violent coping mechanism, though mild compared to the rumors Ragar had heard about him. “If I didn’t have Frankenstein I would be in a difficult place. I am grateful to him. It is always easier with a friend at hand, so, if you will let me, I wish to be a friend to you.”

He…what was he supposed to say? No one had ever offered him any help before with such sincerity, expecting nothing in return. Was it really okay to accept? Raizel didn’t have to make the offer but he’d done so anyway.

Slowly, Ragar nodded. Raizel propped a pillow against the headboard and gestured him over.

Frankenstein snapped the hotel pencil in half. “Master, what about your—”

Rai treated him to another stern look. “I only wish to help Ragar. I will be fine, but if that is your concern, you do not need to stop.”

The pencil cluttered to the floor. His eyes were wide. “Do you—really mean that? Master?”

Raizel did not answer, turning instead toward Ragar. Gently and carefully, giving him enough time to change his mind, he started untying the robe. Ragar swallowed, feeling both guilty and relieved. His mind was too addled to fully register the shame of being laid so bare before Raizel, a successful celebrity in his eyes; all he could really pay any attention to when Raizel’s took his half-hard member in hand was how _good_ it felt to be touched.

“It is better to do it faster during your heat,” Raizel advised gently as he picked up the pace of his strokes. Ragar tightened his grip on the sheets, clenching his eyes shut. His breathing became shallow, just like the first time, and when Rai sped up even more, a look of quiet concentration on his face, his whole body tensed and then jerked, and he was stumbling over the edge.

Ragar was barely recovered from his high when he absently registered the bed dip. He noticed Raizel shift so he was on his knees, although his hand never left Ragar’s cock.

“You are sure of this, Master?”

“If you also wish to, Frankenstein.”

Ragar tilted his head, confused. What were they talking about? He wasn’t exactly capable of coherent thought at the moment, but something was definitely happening.

“Is it alright if Frankenstein joins us?”

“Won’t be helping _you_ , though,” the Alpha specified. “Just so we’re clear. Master and I were kind of in the middle of something when you barged in.”

“ _Frankenstein._ ”

“…my apologies, Ragar.”

Ragar blinked at the pair of them slowly. How was he able to control a dominant Alpha, with possibly the strongest pheromones Ragar had ever come across, with so few words and hardly any action? He could tell they weren’t a bonded pair; Raizel had no marks on him, and anybody could identify a claimed Omega; yet Raizel appeared to have complete control over Frankenstein both in and outside of sex. An Omega whose Alpha called him _Master._

Realizing belatedly that they were waiting for his answer, Ragar hastily nodded. Raizel thanked him and Frankenstein begrudgingly parroted his thanks. On his knees, the idol leaned down, bringing Ragar’s cock close to his lips.

“Is this alright?”

Ragar nodded. Already he was thinking of how he could possibly repay this kindness, but as soon as Rai took him into his mouth he stopped thinking entirely.

He couldn’t help the breathy sounds that escaped him as Rai methodically worked him over with his tongue—and then the sharp gasps that tore out of his throat when Rai stopped being methodical as Frankenstein slammed into him from behind.

It was exhilarating, so good and so _new,_ and his body felt like it was on fire and he lost all sense of surrounding. Ragar cried out with abandon as Rai took him in so deep he gagged, shuddered when he pulled away, stared with widened eyes as Raizel said, “It will feel good if you press here,” slipping a finger inside him, pressing firmly against a bundle of nerves he had never so much as _thought of_ before.

Rai had the foresight to pull away seconds before he climaxed _hard_ , but that was probably because Frankenstein slid an arm under his chest and yanked him upright to thrust into him so forcefully that he followed Ragar over the edge with a broken cry.

It was a couple of long seconds before he felt noticeably calmer, his pent-up energy and frustration having left him in spades. Ragar leaned back and the pillow and allowed himself to take note, once again, of this strange reality he found himself in. Who he had somehow wound up being in bed with.

Raizel collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion, looking unappreciatively at Frankenstein, who grinned apologetically before lying down next to him, pulling him in close and snuggling into his chest like a big cat. He seemed to have forgotten Ragar’s presence entirely.

Rai gave him a small smile over the Alpha’s shoulder. “Are you feeling better?”

Ragar bowed his head. “I am. It is all thanks to you, Sir.”

_They are really something._

Ragar had never wanted an Alpha in his life, being uninterested in such things as he hadn’t even been in possession of the most basic traits of an Omega, but he reconsidered this notion upon watching his new acquaintances. Frankenstein seemed to fuss over Raizel to a truly impressive degree (“Careful of the caramel syrup, Master, it’s only 10% sugar,”, “Let me peel that apple for you, I don’t trust them to have washed it well enough,”, “Master, the people at table seven have been staring at you for two minutes. Permission to dispose of them?”) – but, it didn’t seem bad at all to have such a close companion.

Of course, Frankenstein’s overprotectiveness also meant Ragar was threatened more than once about disclosing any of what he had seen today or the previous night, and that the death glares only stopped when Raizel eventually called his Alpha off.

They were getting along quite peacefully over a large spread of continental breakfast when Frankenstein’s phone rang. He looked visibly disgruntled when he looked at the Caller ID.

“Excuse me for a moment, Master. The old fart is calling.”

Raizel simply sighed, elegantly picking up his teacup as his Manager-slash-Bodyguard left them to speak with _the old fart._ Ragar was used to seeing people in the industry suck up to one another for favors, and he had to admit that Frankenstein’s open abrasiveness was rather refreshing. He did not change his tone as he answered the call.

A few more minutes passed in silence. Ragar couldn’t help but sneak glances at Raizel, or more precisely, his table manners, which seemed on the level of someone raised as royalty rather than a popstar who did live performances in loud stadiums full of screaming fans.

No, come to think of it—Raizel’s _fans_ were screaming and loud, but the man himself was quite reserved. He was Ragar’s second favourite popstar, so he should know; Raizel’s brand of music was soft, lyric-focused and often melancholy. His live performances and MVs weren’t particularly _action-packed_. In fact, now that he thought about it, Ragar was positive that Raizel just—stood there in one place and did not move when he performed on stage. Sometimes there’d be a set-up where he sat on top of a piano or a raised platform. But he never really… _moved._

_Did I fail to notice because his voice is so captivating?_

Raizel spoke, startling him out of his thoughts.

“How are you feeling now?”

Ragar bowed his head gratefully. “I am fully recovered, Sir. And you?”

“I am recovered as well.”

They settled into companionable silence once again. Ragar attempted to replicate the impossibly perfect dining etiquette of his host but ended up mutilating the baked potato on his plate. Disappointed, he watched the crumbs soak up the bean sauce.

“I do not hide because Omegas are weak,” said Raizel suddenly, and Ragar had to look up in alarm because _this_ wasn’t the same mild-mannered tone he’d used before. His voice was still soft, but there was something about it that inspired authority. “You have thought about why I choose to maintain that I am a Beta despite my success.”

Ragar paled. Had he really been that obvious? “I understand, Sir. It is not easy for an Omega to have a career such as yours.”

“And yet, if I were truthful about it, my career would inspire others.”

He couldn’t argue with that. It was exactly what he’d thought.

Raizel sighed. “I was actually unaware of my status as an Omega for several years when my career was beginning. When I came to learn of it, I did not think it a big problem, but Frankenstein was afraid when he found out. You have seen how he worries; he convinced me not to tell anyone until I had at least established myself in the industry.”

“A wise decision,” Ragar agreed wryly.

“When the time is right, I will tell my fans the truth. If the truth is mis-timed the consequences would be wasteful.” Raizel looked at him frankly. “Do not think that having heats changes anything. You are no less capable at your profession now than you were before. While it is important not to let others look down on you, it is as important that you do not look down upon yourself.”

“Yes,” said Ragar, caught completely off-guard. How had he known what Ragar was thinking, and found the right words for him? Raizel had found the roots of his spiraling thoughts and hit the issue at its heart. “I—thank you. I will keep that in mind, Sir.”

Frankenstein looked in an even more unpleasant mood when he returned. “The old codger wants to see you today, Master. He insisted it was extremely important and didn’t listen when I said you needed rest. Do you want me to place a restraining order against him?”

Raizel sighed deeply. “We will visit him.”

Frankenstein startled. “ _Master,_ you can’t risk your health to entertain that fool.”

“I will be fine.”

Ragar watched in amazement as the Alpha grudgingly dropped further protest.

“Hey, 21?”

M-21 kept his eyes on the road, by now used to ignoring the way Tao clung to the driver’s seat headrest from behind because he required the full attention of the person he was bothering.

“What?”

Tao’s chin landed on his shoulder. “What was the sudden summons about?”

M-21 scowled, still refusing to look at him. “I’m driving. You’re trying to crash the car to ask something like that?”

“You’re getting on my nerves too,” said Takeo from the backseat. “Sit down.”

Tao ignored him. “Aren’t you curious why Boss called us all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know, _work?_ ” Takeo said dryly. “Sit the fuck down.”

Tao flopped back down onto the seat, and immediately stretched his legs across Takeo’s lap. Takeo pushed his socked feet away. They flew back onto his lap. Takeo sighed heavily.

“They don’t have any appointments scheduled for today, but Lord has a habit of arranging meetings last-minute and I heard that he’s here to shoot an MV. I’m guessing it’s him again.”

Tao sat up excitedly. “Lord? Will we get to meet him? He’s so fun!”

M-21 coughed. “Fun? That’s your idea of _fun?_ ”

“He is fun,” admitted Takeo. “Well, we’re Betas, so the two of us are not really in a position to say…”

“I swear that old bugger can smell an Alpha from a mile away. I don’t know what he does to them but it creeps me out. I’m not going inside.”

Tao laughed. “He doesn’t do anything to them, 21. They’re all there willingly.”

“He’s doing some voodoo shit on them, Tao. Why the fuck would a bunch of Alphas dress up as pink cat-maids on Tuesdays? He’s probably holding their families hostage.”

Tao giggled. “The cat-maid costumes were cute.”

“I know you think that! You asked for a damn costume!”

Tao made hearts with his fingers, posing like he had on his Instagram feed that day. “Dignity doesn’t make money, love. That post got me a brand deal with Aris Cosmetics.”

Takeo grimaced. “Is there anything you _wouldn’t_ do for money?”

“None that I know of!” said Tao cheerily. “Hey, we should all wear one of Lord’s costumes and make a TikTok! One of _King of the Human_ ’s raps—”

“No,” said Takeo flatly.

“Mention TikTok or gangster rap to me one more time and I’ll break your face,” said M-21.

Tao settled back against the car door grumbling about how they were no fun.

It was no time at all before the Bentley pulled into the basement parking of the 5-star, Michellin-certified fifty-story hotel that their Bosses were staying at. Frankenstein usually allowed them the same hotel and paid out of his own pocket for it, but there’d been an unfortunate incident involving the fire hydrant system, a gun and three cats at the last hotel they’d stayed at, which Frankenstein now brought up every time they traveled anywhere. For this trip their lodging was a single room in a 2-star B&B hotel. The man cut no corners in getting his message clearly across.

M-21 and Takeo got out of the car while Tao hurriedly put his shoes on. When he eventually made his way out, stretching his arms above his head in a loud yawn, he noticed that the other two were unnaturally quiet.

“Huh?” Tao looked between the two of them. “What’s going on?”

“Over there,” said Takeo wryly. Following his gaze and locating the source of concern, Tao’s eyes widened. “That looks like Urokai.”

“The other person is—hey, he’s the photographer from last night!”

“Ragar Kertia?” M-21 was already taking off his jacket. “He’s a Beta or an Omega. We’d better step in before Urokai does something.”

Tao and Takeo nodded, following him as he briskly headed for the scene. Urokai was trouble. They’d clashed with the dominant Alpha many times in the past, and even with the three of their efforts combined, they could never really hope to restrain him without Frankenstein getting involved. An ordinary Omega like Ragar would stand no chance.

Urokai had cornered Ragar. The photographer didn’t seem to realize the situation he was in, his expression perplexed as Urokai continued to say something in his typical sleazy fashion. He reached for Ragar, and M-21 prepared to get between them— when Ragar caught his arm, ducked out of the corner, and twisted it behind it his back.

The trio froze where they stood.

“Get off me, you piece of filth!” screeched Urokai, “Don’t make me hurt you!”

“I don’t believe you can hurt me,” said Ragar coolly. He twisted the Alpha’s arm further in a painful angle. M-21, Tao and Takeo picked their jaws off the floor to wince at the way said arm bent.

“Son of a bitch! Let go!” He thrashed and kicked, trying to slip away in causing commotion, but Ragar didn’t let up.

“How is he…what is that guy’s grip made of?” Takeo asked quietly in awe. “How does Urokai not have a _chance?_ ”

“Okay,” said Ragar, loosening his grip. Urokai was quick on his feet, slipping away and immediately retaliating with a straight uppercut to the jaw, but the photographer was faster, dodging it gracefully and landing a punch to the other man’s solar plexus. He choked, caught completely off-guard, and Ragar fluidly swept his legs out from under him, making him land with a painful thump on the gravel.

Urokai scrambled to his feet, now backed against the same corner Ragar had been before.

“I’ll may you pay!” he screamed. “I’ll make you pay for _daring_ to touch Raizel!”

Tao, Takeo and M-21 stiffened.

Urokai roared, so obnoxiously loud that he could’ve burst a few eardrums, and charged impulsively and stupidly at his opponent. It was easy for Ragar to land the final blow directly between his eyes, instantly knocking him out cold.

The blonde shook out his fingers, frowning slightly down at the unconscious Alpha at his feet. He tugged up the black mask he wore, and suddenly seemed to realize he had an audience.

He didn’t have the time to inquire about it because Tao was on him in an instant, grabbing him by the lapels and slamming his back into a concrete pillar.

“What did you do?” Tao demanded, incensed. M-21 and Takeo came up from behind him, wearing matching weary expressions. “ _What did you do to Sir Raizel?_ ”

Takeo pulled a gun from his jacket. “Answer the question,” he said quietly.

The photographer looked surprised, to say the least, but instead of attacking like they expected, he slowly shook his head.

“You misunderstand. I did not do anything unwarranted.”

M-21 growled, driving a fist into the wall right beside his ear. “Just what the fuck does _that_ mean?”

Ragar stared at them for an uncomfortable eternity, until Tao’s grip started to shake. Then, finally, he raised both hands at his side in a gesture of surrender.

“Sir Raizel helped me this morning with an emergency I ran into. I believe this man saw us together and misunderstood.”

They assessed him for a heartbeat longer—even exchanging looks between them, in silent communication, until finally Tao let go, taking a step back but not too far back.

“He saw you with Sir Raizel, when Frankenstein wasn’t around?”

Ragar nodded. “He briefly left us to answer a phone call.”

M-21, Tao and Takeo shared another look between them.

“Who was the caller?” Tao asked.

“Ah, I don’t know.” Ragar looked thoughtful. “But I believe Frankenstein called him many insulting names. Most of them alluded to age.”

The trio collectively heaved a sigh of relief, and to his amazement, the mood around them immediately changed. Tao stuck out his hand for a handshake.

“Well, you’re in the clear! We’re sorry for doubting you. That was badass, by the way.”

“What are you made of?” asked Takeo. “Titanium?”

“It was pretty satisfying to see Urokai get his ass beaten,” M-21 said way too sincerely.

Bewildered, but not unpleasantly so, Ragar shook hands with all of them. He assumed they were others who worked for Raizel, but there was no way they were ordinary employees. Not when they seemed almost as protective of the popstar as Frankenstein himself.

Interrupting their greetings session, a slow clapping sound echoed in the car park, drawing gradually closer.

_Speak of the devil, and he shows up._

Frankenstein had a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down the spines of all present.

“It was indeed satisfying,” said the Alpha. “M-21, Tao, Takeo. You have your hotel privileges back. And Ragar…”

Ragar suddenly found himself face-to-face with the devil himself. He had never before seen such _utterly terrifying_ blue eyes. His new acquaintances had all but scrambled out of the way, abandoning him to his fate.

Frankenstein slapped his shoulder with a bright smile.

“Would you like a job?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~80% of the reason I wrote an omegaverse comedy fic was to have urokai get beaten up in a basement. its my kink. no shaming.~~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, this struck me embarrassingly late but I realized I liberally use terms in this fic that might be unfamiliar or confusing to people not familiar with this genre ~~that I myself am more familiar with than I want to be~~ , so here's a short glossary of terms;
> 
> A **"Recessive Omega"** usually refers to a person who has been identified as an Omega through whatever tests they have for it, but has yet to show real signs of being one such as having heats or easily distinguishable omega pheromones.  
> The term **"Dominant Alpha"** refers typically to Alphas who naturally have strong alpha characteristics, such as strong pheromones, an intimidating presence to other Alphas because of those pheromones, physical strength, lots of stamina etc.  
>  **"Heats"** are a cyclic occurrence where Omegas get really horny and want to fuck.  
>  **"Ruts"** are a cyclic occurrence where Alphas get really horny and want to fuck, although for worldbuilding purposes in this fic to explain away why heats are an obstacle for Omegas and ruts aren't for Alphas, ruts only happen about twice a year while heats are monthly. I hate that I had to put any thought into this but this is a gaping worldbuilding hole in most Omegaverse stories that I had to somehow address.  
>  **"Betas"** are basically ordinary people without Alpha or Omega characteristics. They don't experience heats.  
> Alphas, betas and omegas can occur in any gender. Omegaverse stories usually don't bother explaining the difference between a male and a female Alpha even when they have side characters who are female Alphas, so I'm going to assume this comes down to pheromones and that female Alphas, like dominant male Alphas, are able to exert some degree of control and intimidation over those with weaker pheromones. 
> 
> That has been your glossary. I would like to never do this again.

* * *

“Raizel! My boy!”

Frankenstein gritted his teeth and bore with it as the man known only by his pretentious stage name, Lord, rose from his grand couch crowded by six others to come forward and sweep his Master into a hug. The pheromones of his six Alpha playthings practically bled from the tall blonde Omega, _tainting_ his _Master,_ and were it not for Tao and Takeo discreetly putting themselves between him and the sacrilegious scene, he would have very well done something violent about it.

Lord pulled a limp and unresisting Raizel to this side, affectionately ruffling his hair. “Ey, Frankenstein. Have you been taking good care of my boy? Raizel? Can this man satisfy you?”

Tao and Takeo stopped being discreet and each grabbed onto one of his arms before he could swing his fists at Lord. Raizel blushed, nodding meekly in reply to the extremely intrusive question.

Lord suddenly paused, holding his quarry at arm’s length with a slight frown on his face. “You look tired. Tired-er than usual.”

Frankenstein grinned, exposing the sharp ends of his teeth. “That’s why. I _told you_. He couldn’t make it. Today.”

“Oh. _Oh!_ I see now!” Lord leaned closer to Raizel to whisper in his ear. “Are your heats still really bad? I’m sponsoring clinical trials for a strong suppressant for Omegas in your position and I’m _pretty_ confident it’s safe, would you like early access to the drug before it hits the market?”

Frankenstein was not going to pretend he hadn’t heard that. “Drugs that are still being _tested—”_

“I decline,” said Raizel firmly.

“Well, okay, your choice.” Lord finally released him, gliding back to his harem-couch. “But please check it out when it’s legitimate. I think it’ll be revolutionary, and,” Lord cast a sly glance at Frankenstein. “Something that Alphas really have to look out for. With the kind of control it can give an Omega, we could be upsetting the social balance in no time.”

“You just get off to the thought of anarchy,” muttered Frankenstein.

“Pfft, is that Alpha-insecurity I hear?”

“What the hell, you old codger. Do you really think I care about things like that?”

Lord huffed. “You _should._ It’s your social responsibility.”

“I only have brainpower to waste on things that my Master is concerned about.”

Raizel sighed. Frankenstein did care that Omegas were treated as less, and had himself worked on developing suppressants when he’d still practiced medicine; but his tendency to be hostile towards Lord came before any concern that he may be projecting an image of himself as _one of those Alphas._ Lord probably knew this and was only teasing. Raizel tried not to puzzle too much about their interactions.

Frankenstein crossed his arms. “That aside, what did you need that was so important you had to disturb Master?”

Lord waited for one of his Alphas to fill up his red-wine chalice before deigning to answer.

“Well, I was in the area, and you know that I never turn down an opportunity to see my Raizel. But more importantly, I need some test-runs of the pieces and costumes I had designed for the Starlight MV. Did I mention we’d be shooting that here? I got a studio set up and everything.”

Raizel laid a hand on Frankenstein’s arm before he could, again, potentially, explode.

“ _No,_ you did _not_ inform us that it would be filmed overseas.”

“Ah.” Lord sipped his wine with a bright smile. “I’m informing you now. So if you could please shove your anger management issues for a little bit and let my hair and makeup team have Raizel starting now, I’d appreciate it. Krasis!”

Another tall blonde appeared from behind a partition as if he’d been waiting for the call. Frankenstein recognized him; he was well-known in the industry and often worked with Lord, but always outshined by his only son, Karias, who’d roped Tao into part-time modeling and become an insufferable influence on the young Beta.

Krasis and his team—all blondes, did Lord have some sort of complex? — lead Raizel away to one of the back rooms in the studio. Experience had taught him that his presence during hair and makeup application was not tolerated, so Frankenstein deigned to locate himself with the door in his sights as Lord had drinks served for all of them. Tao and Takeo had always got along with the old weasel; M-21 refused to leave the car whenever they visited because Lord had a tendency to hit on just about any untaken Alpha. Even if they were too young for him and not his type. He got off on it.

“Say, would you two like to be paired up with two of mine? I don’t mind lending you any of my Alphas.”

Frankenstein shot a cold glare his way, which he haughtily ignored. Tao waved the offer off with a laugh.

“I-I think we’re good. Thanks, though…”

Lord pouted. “Has being around Frankenstein sucked the fun out of you? C’mon, Takeo, I’ve heard quite a bit about your exploits.”

Takeo startled. “Uh. Huh? You…have?”

Lord laughed, no, giggled like a child, nearly kicking the Alpha who’d been massaging his foot in the face. “What are you looking so shy about? Does that guy over there not know?”

Frankenstein gnashed his teeth. “Why, you…”

“Ahaha, this is, uh, we don’t tell Boss everything,” Tao admitted sheepishly and in a hushed tone that indicated he would appreciate it if Lord dropped this topic.

“Hm, makes sense, he seems so prudish.” Lord mimicked an exaggeratedly deep voice. “ _I’m Frankenstein, I’m a conservative old man who thinks Alphas are going to eat my children—”_

“Hey.” Frankenstein’s lips twitched. “Do you want to fight, you geriatric? Are you looking for a fight?”

“Boss, calm down…”

“Y-Yeah. I only go out with other Betas, anyway…”

Frankenstein snapped at them. “Stop validating his bullshit! I’m _not_ afraid of you going out with Alphas! You can go fuck a dominant Alpha for all I care!”

“Then what about Kar—”

“Don’t have such low standards.”

“Is Juraki an option, though—”

“No. His hair is atrocious. He’s a pushover. It’s bad genes.”

“Lunark is…”

“Too old for you, what the fuck?”

Lord, who’d been holding in his laughter for the entire exchange, let go all at once without warning and ended up accidentally kneeing the guys who were kissing his feet. He apologized through tears, still laughing, tried to calm himself down with a sip of wine but choked on it instead, and this went on until Frankenstein’s blood boiled and Tao and Takeo smartly made their way out of the room.

Urokai had a black eye.

Now, it wasn’t unusual to see Urokai in some state of disarray brought on by violence, but Zarga had never seen him look like he’d _lost_ a fight. He was sulking, having taken only a single bite from his tuna and mayonnaise sandwich, when Zarga found him at the quaint outdoor café they’d arranged to meet at.

“What happened to you?”

Predictably, the redhead immediately hopped on the defensive.

“He caught me off guard! I wasn’t expecting some scrawny weakling Omega bitch to know a martial art like that!”

Zarga took a sip of his bitter black coffee. Just the way he liked it, without any sugar. Urokai liked to joke that he was diabetic, but he actually _was_ diabetic, and it was none of Urokai’s business. Better to be diabetic than to have rage fits, anyway.

“I see. Who was this Omega?”

“Some fuckin’ blondie,” Urokai grumbled. “Wore some stupid-lookin’ mask like it’s flu season. He was hanging around Sir Raizel and being a clingy bitch.”

Zarga frowned. “Your description sounds familiar. Was his hair long, tied back perhaps?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Urokai, leaning forward in interest. “You know who it is? I’m going to find that asshole and teach him a lesson!”

Zarga rolled his eyes. Why did he put up with this man? “I may be mistaken, but I think your guy is Ragar Kertia. He was the photographer at the reception party for Raizel last night.”

Urokai’s eye narrowed. “You mean the party _you_ refused to take me to?”

“You become volatile around Raizel, and I can’t have you dragging _me_ down with you.” Zarga stroked his chin contemplatively. “Although, if you would like…you could lodge a complaint with his agency.”

The redhead sneered. “And admit to being overpowered by a weakling bitch Omega? Are you insane?”

“It is just a friendly suggestion. It’s not as if you have anything more on him.” Zarga took a long draft of his coffee. “Although, I’m afraid I will have to injure your pride some more. Ragar is a recessive Omega. The kind that’s good for absolutely nothing. To get your ass so thoroughly beat by a recessive—tch. How embarrassing.”

“What?”

Zarga looked up to find Urokai staring at him with wide eyes. Well, the swollen eye was less wide than the other one, but his surprise was clear.

“I said, Ragar Kertia is—”

“If he’s a recessive Omega…” Urokai covered his mouth, a reflex, but it wasn’t enough to mask that his shock was slowly turning into something else altogether. “If he’s a recessive Omega, why the hell did he _reek_ of pheromones when I met him?”

Zarga set his coffee down. He stared right back at Urokai. “Are you certain it was his own?”

“It fluctuated. It was definitely coming from him.” Urokai grinned. “Well, now isn’t _that_ interesting.”

“His agency does not hire Omegas as a rule,” Zarga began slowly, starting to catch on. “He was allowed the job because of his recessive nature. If he really did have strong Omega pheromones when you ran into him, then—”

Urokai snagged his coffee, downing more than half of it in one go as if it was his.

“Get me in touch with that agency.”

“Gorgeous. We could use this one on the album cover. Frankenstein, what do you think?”

Frankenstein didn’t bother gracing him with a response, instead lending a hand for Raizel to pull himself out of the porcelain tub. He carefully picked out the petals that still clung to his Master’s skin before wrapping a towel around his shoulders.

“Are you feeling cold? Do you want to go back to the hotel?”

Raizel shook his head. “There is more required of me.”

“Actually, it’s getting late.” Lord slid the photograph back into the envelope and sealed it. “You can come back tomorrow. We got some great stills today.”

Raizel nodded. Frankenstein was just about to follow him out of the room when Lord stopped him.

“Here,” he said with a smirk, holding out the envelope. “Never let it be said that I don’t care about you at all.”

Frankenstein scowled. “What is it?”

“Today’s stills as well as the rejects. I saw how you were eyeing my Raizel in those costumes. Thought you’d appreciate a souvenir.”

Frankenstein snatched the envelope from between the Omega’s long, taunting fingers. “You’d better not be storing copies of the rejects anywhere else.”

Lord stuck his lip out. “How crude. Do you really think so little of me?”

“Yes.”

“You are one difficult Alpha. How on Earth did Raizel manage to tame something like you?”

Frankenstein paused, halfway out the door.

It was a question he got often from people who dared enough to ask, which wasn’t many people. The tabloids always wondered how Raizel, a quiet and soft-spoken Beta to the public eye, had possibly acquired a dominant Alpha who publicly, openly referred to him as _Master._ Many thought it was a publicity stunt. Those who had met him, just had a lot of questions they wisely kept to themselves.

He looked over his shoulder at Lord, a smirk tugging his lips.

“I don’t know. How do you think?”

Lord’s gaze was drawn to the thin black ribbon around the Alpha’s neck, and it struck him that he’d never seen Frankenstein without it. It had just seemed like a natural element of his attire, but he wasn’t wearing a suit today. Instead of around the collar of a suit, today the black ribbon touched his bare skin under the neckline of a casual shirt.

In hindsight, the black ribbon was _always_ there. If not around his neck, then as a hair tie, or wrapped around his wrist, or tucked into a breast pocket with a part of it showing. 

Frankenstein did not wait around for him to ask. He was gone before Lord got over the realization that he was talking to a _collared_ Alpha.

**Author's Note:**

> Join the Cadiscord Etrama di Raizel server! 
> 
> **https://discord.gg/Ad97bDS23Q**


End file.
